


A Gift For The Worst

by Silverine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Presents, M/M, Meet-Cute, Shattsunday Holiday Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 14:04:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17143133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverine/pseuds/Silverine
Summary: If there is any decent reason for Keith to want that stupid videogame, it escapes Shiro's understanding. But what he really didn't expect was having to fight a complete stranger over it, in the most bizarre showdown: Whose sibling is theworst?This is my gift for the Shattsunday Holiday Exchange, hosted byShatt Sundayon Tumblr.





	A Gift For The Worst

**Author's Note:**

> Even if the title of this fic is misleading, this is my gift for someone who is actually the "best", [Ahatfullofoctarine](http://www.ahatfullofoctarine.tumblr.com)! Thanks a lot for the prompt, I had a lot of fun writing this, and I really hope you'll like it <3.
> 
> It's a nice pause between the shatt and klance long fics I'm currently working on, so... take a bit of xmas shenanigans and I hope you guys enjoy it! Happy Holidays to y'all! <3

Shiro is honestly too tired for this.

He thought his brother would outgrow his interest in things like videogames after entering college. Turns out, he came back just as addicted, but snobbier.

“ _The Collector Edition comes with a helmet!_ ” grumbles Shiro to himself, walking into the packed store, in a stupid voice that sounds nothing like Keith. “ _It’s an exclusive! I deserve it!_ … Well I deserve a break, but here we are, aren’t we?”

It’s just the first store he comes into, two blocks away from his job, but he is already done. Christmas shopping has always been a pain in the ass, and this time it won’t be any different, given how he is already struggling to not bump into any of the rabid buyers with his huge body and metallic prosthetic, deafened by their voices and the obnoxious music coming from the speakers around the small place.

Since he is not an expert, he tries to find someone to help him but no attendant is on sight, all of them buried under hectic moms and dads asking thousands of questions and showing different levels of stress. So, he just wanders around the aisles and corridors until he finds the electronics department, and in a corner of it, the videogames section. _Finally_.

Two attendants behind the counter are trying to contain the heated people surrounding them and Shiro tries his best to slip between them, which quickly turns into a challenge until his considerable height proves to be useful. Looking up and over the multitude of indistinct heads, he spots a lonely box with a logo that’s faintly familiar, advertising an ugly helmet on its front, resting over a tall stand, away from the crowded counter. Shiro smirks. _Jackpot_.

Stealthy, he heads to that corner, hoping no one grabs it before he makes it there. He thinks the only reason no one has picked the box yet is probably that it’s out of reach for your average angry mom.

And, well, he may act like one sometimes, but he is no average angry mom, and while he swims through the sea of angry buyers smiling to himself, he thanks his luck because he is more than ready to grab that box for dear life and call it a day, nice and easy.

Successfully landing in front of the objective, he stands on his toes and extends his good arm to reach for the game when, suddenly, pale fingers cross his field of vision and go directly to clench his extended forearm. Another hand grabs his metallic arm and pulls down as if finding leverage, and when Shiro looks to his side, he finds two amber eyes and a slightly freckled face right over his shoulder, furiously focused on the box. Those eyes only leave the prize when the hand grabbing the prosthetic arm presses twice and doesn’t feel flesh, and the man to whom it belongs turns his gaze to Shiro, finding his face way too close and stepping back as if he had burned.

“Oh, geez, I’m so sorry, I’m— that’s a— I hope I didn’t break it?” he stutters.

The man looks apologetical as he hides the offending hand behind his back, and while Shiro quickly checks if his arm is moving normally by rotating his elbow, he can’t help noticing… the guy is kinda cute. That red nose and his long hair escaping from a messy ponytail with wet tips dripping over a huge scarf are dead giveaways that he just came from outside and may have been wandering around for a good while.

Vaguely, Shiro thinks this look suits him before he snaps back to reality. He eyes the box and reprimands himself for letting some pretty eyes distract him from his current and _very pressing_ goal.

“It’s fine, no damage at all,” he assures, showing a small smile that makes the other guy open his eyes wider. But Shiro is determined to finish this hellish evening ASAP, so bowing his head to dismiss the other man respectfully, he extends his hand to grab the box once more.

And, again, a pale hand stops him. He raises an eyebrow and looks at the stranger again, but this time he has to repress a sudden impulse to laugh, because the guy’s eyes are —figuratively— on fire. He uses his other hand to tuck a wet strand of hair behind his ear while he clears his throat, in what may be an effort to look intimidating.

He should try for endearing instead, that’s something he could nail better, thinks Shiro.

“Uh, excuse me, but… I saw that first,” states the guy, nose pointing up. Shiro has to make an effort to hide the twitch on the corner of his lips.

“I’m pretty sure I got here first,” he answers.

“Only because you are bigger and could… literally open a path through the horde,” grumbles the man, while his eyes travel from Shiro’s face to his torso and back. The red from his nose seems to suddenly extend to the rest of his face. “A-anyways, you got here faster but I saw it first. So... would you kindly hand it to me, please?”

Shiro scoffs, half amused, half irritated.

“How can you even know that?” he retorts.

“I was watching,” answers the stranger, before wincing and hurrying to add: “I mean, the box! Not watching _you_.”

“Okay…”

“I saw it as soon as I entered here. My eye is already trained to detect it...” mumbles the man, a glint of madness appearing on his eyes, the kind you only achieve after hours of searching for something in packed stores. Shiro raises his eyebrows and gives half a step back, as a precaution.

“Okay…” he repeats, but the man shakes his head and sighs, scrubbing his face.

“You don’t get it, dude. I’ve already searched for this goddamn game in half the stores of this city. I NEED it.”

“Wait, is it really that hard to find?” asks Shiro, genuinely worried. He isn’t in the mood to search for a stupid game all day. The stranger seems to understand he made a mistake, and he covers his mouth.

“Shit. Err, I mean, I’m exaggerating…”

“Doubt it,” says Shiro, and the man groans, lowering his arms in absolute defeat.

“Listen, I _beg_ you,” he says, putting a pitiful expression. “I need this stupid, stupid, stuuupid game for my sister. She won’t let me live if I don’t get it for her.”

So he is going for a new strategy now, huh. Good ol’ puppy eyes. And Shiro has to admit, this one could be much more effective...

 _‘Hold your ground, Shirogane_ ’, he thinks, mentally slapping himself when he feels his guard drop. He crosses his arms defensively before speaking, to assert his stance.

“Well, I need it for my brother, so... same. Too bad, and sorry.”

“Oh yeah, sure, I bet your brother is a sweet and understanding boy, but my sister is NOT. She is a little gremlin, and my life is at risk. I’m not even joking,” retorts the stranger in a dramatic tone.

“No, he’s not,” deadpans Shiro, frowning. “He’s actually a little shit too. I also have to appease him with a tribute.”

“No, no, no, you don’t get it, dude. No matter how bad you think your bro is, my sister is worse,” he insists.

“Uhh, no? Unless your sister stole your bike and got four tickets before crashing it while trying to run away, only because he didn’t want to go to school that particular Monday morning...”

“Wow, wild. Was he alright?”

“Oh yeah, they brought him back in one piece, don’t worry. My bike is another story, though.”

“Cool,” says the guy, relieved. Then he frowns and shakes his head. “I mean, no! That’s nothing! My sister almost got expelled after hacking her way into the school records only because her favorite teacher was fired!”

“What? How old is she?”

“When that happened? She was thirteen. Now she’s sixteen.”

“That’s… actually impressive,” admits Shiro.

“I know, right?” says the stranger, a subtle hint of pride in his voice. It makes Shiro smile, but he isn’t even close to giving up.

“Still, Keith is worse. He was a borderline delinquent,” he points.

“Bro, cut the guy some slack. Pidge would have turned those innocent tickets into a whole-ass mortgage if she was in the mood.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works…”

“Believe me, she’d find a way because she is the ACTUAL WORST.”

“Not next to Keith.”

“Because you haven’t met Pidge!”

They both huff and look at each other narrowing their eyes, until a small voice coming from behind interrupts them.

“Excuse me, is that one on sale, or—”

“No!” growl both men, scaring the poor lady who dared to interrupt them and now turns away scandalized.

Shiro watches her leave and so does the other man, who is now rubbing his neck, all fury gone. Coming to his senses, he realizes he is fighting a complete stranger over who has the worst sibling only to earn the right to pay a ridiculous amount for a horrible, overpriced plastic helmet and a disc. And during Christmas week, no less.

The levels of absurdity of it all are making his cheeks burn.

And maybe it’s because of this realization, or the holiday music echoing everywhere, or just the repenting expression on this stranger’s handsome face, but Shiro feels suddenly filled of generous Christmas feelings. Sighing, he speaks again.

“Listen, uh…” He gestures to the stranger, asking for his name.

“Matthew,” he answers, and Shiro knows now for sure: his sudden transfiguration has way more to do with those amber eyes than any pure Holiday spirit. He loudly clears his throat.

“Ok, Matthew. Since you already checked half of the stores of this city... I think you should have this game.”

Matthew’s face immediately lights up.

“For real?” he asks.

“Yeah. Here.”

Shiro stands on his tiptoes again, extending his arm to finally take the cursed box. He holds it between his arms for a second and then he offers it to the other guy, who takes it with doubtful hands.

“Wow, man… uh…” Matthew now mimics Shiro’s gesture from before, asking for his name too.

“Takashi,” he answers.

“Takashi,” repeats Matthew. His cheeks tint in a rosy tone. “Uh, thanks a lot. A-and I know it’s kinda stupid to ask this now, after… you know. But... are you sure?”

Shiro snorts.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I think I should put some more effort, after all. To be honest, this is my first store. It just didn’t seem fair.”

“Oh, I see. Still… that’s really nice of you. Thank you.” Matthew smiles, dimples appearing on the corners of his mouth. “Sorry for being a jerk to you before.”

Absolutely contrary to his previous attitude, he stares sheepishly at Shiro now, with a mix of guilt and hidden mischief that’s doing _things_ to Shiro’s insides. Something in that look makes him... bolder. After all, what’s to lose with trying to push a little further?

Aside from the damn box, which he already lost, anyway.

“Say, Matthew. Since you already went to so many stores, maybe you could… you know. Show me where you haven’t looked yet?” he asks, scratching his white hair. At the surprised look Matthew gives him, he hurries to add: “I-I mean, you can show me on my GPS. Not that you have to _go_ with me, like…”

But the man is laughing, and Shiro presses his lips, ashamed. What’s with him making a fool of himself twice in less than an hour?

However, Matthew’s smile is wider than ever, and his face is even more flushed than before when he talks to him.

“It’s just Matt. And, well, I still have some things left to buy... I can help you search for the game in the remaining shops. That is… as long as coffee’s on you,” he says, and despite his red cheeks, his voice comes out velvety and flirty this time.

Dumbfounded for at least three seconds, Shiro gapes at Matt and his silence is making the confident smirk on his face melt, which prompts him to react.

“Sure! I mean, yeah. Great. Great! Coffee's on me!” he stammers like an idiot, but at least that brings relief to Matt’s features, who exhales a sigh that sounds a bit like a chuckle too.  

“I gotta pay for this first, though. Think you can go ahead so I can walk behind you, Takashi?” asks Matt, securing the box under his arm, ready to cross the battlefield. Shiro laughs.

“Sure thing. Also… you can just call me Shiro.”

“Shiro. Fitting,” says Matt, looking at his white hair with genuine appreciation while grinning again.

Turns out maybe Keith _does_ deserve his ridiculous present, after all. Because even though it takes Shiro three more hours to find it, this is the first time he wishes his Christmas shopping doesn’t end.

And it’s also the first time he gets home after it with a cute guy’s number and a smile lasting for days.


End file.
